The Case of Purple Anarchy
by Mazz84
Summary: Something new,weird and oddly fun to write. You know how I work,there's a full summary inside. All feedback welcome. AU Sonic! Might be OC/Sherlock later on. DUFN
1. Chapter 1

**After consulting (See that? Funny!) Fellow author SummerAtMidnight, who is not only a brilliant writer in her own right, but also my cousin, I thought I'd take a break from my other fics and post this just for a laugh****.**

**Thought I'd be the first with a cross-over between SONIC THE HEDGEHOG and BBC's SHERLOCK.**

**Oddly weird but fun!**

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><p><span>The Case of Purple Anarchy. (Working title.)<span>

_Summary._

_During a fight with Professor Eggman, young Aleena is transported to the Void via Chaos Control. Shocked to find it disappearing at an alarming rate she learns the only way to save it__,__ and her family's legacy__,__ is to use the last of the Chaos Emeralds. The lost Grey one. Problem is__,__ she has no idea where or when it is. Or does she? When a large priceless diamond, sounding much like the controlling Grey Emerald, pops up through-out Earth's history she decides to write herself into the past in the hope of getting it back and stopping it falling into the wrong hands. But she's noticed by the world's only consulting detective- Sherlock Holmes._

Main Characters. 

Aleena the Hedgehog. (Freedom Fighter and Princess from New Mobius.)

Professor Eggman. (Alternate Eggman from New Mobius.)

Sherlock Holmes.

Dr John Watson.

Jim Moriarty.

And-Drumroll, please-Classic Sonic! (In a VERY special appearance prior to up-coming game SONIC GENERATIONS.)

(Plus minor characters from Sherlock TV series.)

**Chapter One.**

High above the planet New Mobius a final battle was taking place. A battle between good and evil, brains and speed. The fight to end all fights between Aleena the Hedgehog and her arch enemy Professor Eggman...

Along the deck of the newly restored Death- Egg, (A space station capable of destroying a whole planet in one go. And also shaped like Eggman's face.) Princess Aleena, dressed for battle in a black bodysuit under a blue mini-dress, shot off along the deck in a blur of black and purple. She skilfully dodged the rockets that came her way and jumped over the huge turrets that were primed to take her out. She only had one shot to stop Eggman's latest plan for world domination, and if she messed up...That was it. Game over.

The lilac heroine blinked the sweat from her green eyes and curled her white gloved fingers around the last of the Chaos Emeralds. The Grey one, the only one not to have been destroyed or lost during the years of war. It was the last ray of hope, of light that could stop this madness. Hurrying along Aleena heard the unmistakeable sound of powerful jet engines and quickly hit the ground, covering her head. She looked up and spotted the hulking mass of metal, guns and...Well, ugliness land a few feet away. Shakily she got to her feet, tucking the gemstone into her pockets for safe keeping.

The Egg-Terrorizer, Eggman's newest toy, stilled just shy of squashing her flat and lowered its massive head to regard her. Eggman grinned through the visor making the robot's shoulders shake as he chuckled. "So, it all comes down to this? You. Me. And a little gemstone." He leaned over the tiny rodent, from his wrist a series of rifles extended and locked onto their target. "You honestly think you can stop me with that lone Emerald? Look around, sweetheart, I **own **this world. Your friends and family fell to me in a heart-beat, the Chaos Emeralds are mine to control and use as I see fit. Now... Hand it over and I might let you live."

"No."

"What? Speak up, rodent."

Aleena gritted her teeth. "I said...NO!" She jumped into the air, curled into a tight purple ball and headed towards the Professor. At the last possible second, the Egg- Terrorizer vanished in a green shimmer of light. Aleena landed and looked around confused, "What the he-ARGH!" The robot smacked her hard from behind, sending her skidding across the floor. She got up to her knees, her chestnut hair spilling from her ponytail and into her eyes; she pulled a face rubbing the back of her head. "That's...Chaos Control?"

The giant robot wobbled with glee again, "Indeed, girlie. Finally I have mastered the art of teleporting with the magic in the Emeralds. It took five of them to crack the secret, whatever was left over I used on my wonderful creations. Now hand over the last one." Aleena slowly reached into her pockets, with-drawing the stone she shifted from foot to foot, tossing the gem between her palms. Eggman licked his lips, "That's it, just give it to me. GIVE IT TO ME!"

"Not a chance." She smirked, "You'll have to kill me first."

"Fine. Then I will. All weapons, full power!" From every-where thousands of guns lined up and hummed with power, ready to take the hedgehog out. Aleena stood very still; she had to time it just right. Eggman stomped forward, the deck of the Death-Egg shook with each step. He aimed his wrist weapon at Aleena and grinned once more, "So long, hedgehog. FIRE!"

"CHAOS INFERNO!" Aleena shouted at the top of her lungs and held the Emerald in front of her.

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. The green beam of highly unstable energy escaped Eggman's wrist. At the same time a silver bubble of protection grew out of the Grey Emerald, it encased Aleena and started crackling when it sensed its brothers and sisters powers. Green hit grey resulting in a spectacular fireworks display, which lit up the whole sky along with a muffled sonic-boom that echoed through-out the deck.

When the dust had settled, Eggman and Aleena were nowhere in sight. All that was left from their last battle were two sets of scorch marks on deck were the two had been standing.

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><p><strong>ELSE WHERE...<strong>

Aleena fell through the howling abyss of swirling gold and pink, commonly known as The Void, the space between dimensions. She fell with her arms spinning like windmills in a vain attempt to slow her descent.

She made the classic mistake of looking down. Coming up fast was a platform and she realised, in horror, that she was going too fast to lower her chances of not becoming a hedgehog pancake. She slammed her eyes shut as the platform got closer, and closer, and closer...

When she dared to open them again the purple hedgehog found herself lying, flat on her back, at the centre of the floating disc with no broken bones. Rolling onto her belly, she gingerly sat back on her hunches and looked at her surroundings. The vast space of the Void made her shiver, and with good reason: Too many bad memories. Getting to her feet she dusted herself down, quickly made sure her friction- resistant bodysuit wasn't torn, pulled her hair back into its neat ponytail and checked her retro designed red sneakers for damage, before stepping to the disc's edge. She frowned. Something didn't seem right.

"O...K... Now _**that's **_not right." To the left of where she was standing there was a big patch of white, as if someone had splashed a whole pot of white paint on the Void's surface. As she peered at it something odd happened, or it was her imagination going wild, but the mark seemed to be getting bigger, and bigger. She stepped back feeling slightly disturbed. "What the hell is going on? Why am I back on the Ghost Roads? And where is the Prof?"

"All will be answered...if you turn around."

Aleena froze. She knew that voice. Knew it better than anybody. But it couldn't be _**him**_. Slowly the Princess turned...And saw nothing. There was no-one there. It was only then she became aware of something tugging the hem of her skirt. Glancing down a gasp left her lips as she came face to face with a small, chubby blue hedgehog. The hedgehog smiled-no, he _**smirked**_- at her. It was a smirk that she had grown up with all her life.

The Princess knelt down slowly until she was eye level and timidly reached out a shaky hand. The hedgehog grinned into her touch and nuzzled against her hand on his cheek. "Oh, Crystal..." she breathed. "It's you, isn't it?" The hedgehog nodded making her sob, "I thought I'd never see you again!" She leaned closer and wrapped the little hedgehog in her arms, crying into his neck. "I've missed you so much!"

The tiny hedgehog made soothing noises and rubbed her back calmingly. "It's OK, Na-Na. Daddy's here now." Holding her back by the shoulders he wiped her tears away with his thumbs. He looked her over and his smile grew. "You've grown, Aleena."

She grinned cheekily, "So have you. Downwards, and-judging by the retro look-somewhere near the start of your career. Before the accident with the-" Her father scowled at her. "OK, zipping it." She stood and dusted herself down a second time. "Right. Last thing I remember is fighting Eggman and using the Grey Emerald. I'm guessing you have reasons for dragging me here. So... Classic Sonic, let's hear 'em."

Little Sonic (or Classic) folded his arms, "The white-wash effect you see is the work of an unknown enemy. Their plan is to wipe out my past and future in every reality. In an attempt to slow it down every version of an older, or Modern, Sonic is being teamed-up with a younger, or Classic, version-Me. Because of the untimely death of the Modern Sonic of your world, you were sent here instead; fortunately the Emerald sensed the danger and used Chaos Control instead of Chaos Inferno. For the last question: Where's the Prof? He's in the same place as the Grey Emerald which you need in order to restore my-and in turn-our legacy." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's so confusing even _**I **_don't understand some of it."

Aleena folded her arms and paced back and forth. "So...I need to jump realms, steal the Emerald back, avoid the local police, defeat Eggman and restore a part of our time-line. Right?" Sonic nodded. She grinned widely. "Well it's easier than the stuff with the Anarchy Key and I'm cool with that. Let's do it!"

The earlier version of her dad regarded her with narrowed eyes. Seeing that she was dead serious he nodded and grabbed her hand, pulling her swiftly behind him. "Let's do it to it, Princess!" Running at full speed the two headed for the disc's edge. Aleena tugged Sonic's hands nervously but he squeezed it reassuringly. "Get ready to jump!"

Together the unlikely duo jumped into the vast space. They used the glowing orbs, which Aleena learned were hubs to the other dimensions, to bounce across. Soon they stopped at another platform where an orb sat on its own. This one was glowing slightly brighter than the others. Classic Sonic touched its' surface and it shimmered.

"Here we are. Both the Emerald and the Prof made it to this realm." From inside the orb Aleena could hear the everyday sounds of life: the honking of cars, people chatting etc. She looked at Classic with slight concern. "Don't look like that. If you don't believe me…"

Aleena leaned forward. The orb shimmered again and this time she could faintly make out a huge, bulky shape in the fog. She stepped back and folded her arms. "That's the Prof, alright. That's his Egg Terrorizer. But something seems off about the time. When is he?"

Classic pursed his lips, "I think he's in this Earth's past. I think…He's writing himself into Earth's history. Every time the Chaos Emerald is re-discovered he shows up to try and steal it. And every time he fails because something is always preventing him."

"Oh, yeah? What?" She asked teasingly. Classic looked back dryly. She blinked, "Oh, me!" A grin. "Well, _**obviously**_ me."

"And there's the classic big-headed attitude coming out." Her dad muttered with a head shake. "Now, we need a plan. If we use your choker, that's impregnated with your Master Emerald, we can also pop up in and out Earth's history the same time as Eggman or the Grey Emerald, which they've called, _**Pierre de Mort**_, which seems fitting considering the back-story they've cooked up." He shook his head again. "Silly humans."

"Uh, dad…" Aleena pointed at the orb. It was glowing with a red lighting effect. "What's going on?"

"Oh, no! No, no, no! Eggman's jumped again. Quick, Aleena, we need to act super-fast in order to keep up. Use the Master Emerald to active Chaos Control and follow him."

"Are you nuts? Your great plan is to write ourselves into the past, follow Eggman and stop him from stealing the Chaos Emerald so that we can steal it?"

Classic nodded, pulled out a sleek object from his quills and handed to her. "I can't go with you in body, I have to stay here and keep an eye on things, but I can in spirit. I've programmed this—I think they call it an I-Pod, but I've renamed it an S-Pod—with a holographic version of myself. When-ever you need me, use this. If you can't get a hold of me, text me."

She nodded. "OK." She thought for a second and then, "Hold on. If I go jumping along the time-lines as well I'm bound to be noticed."

"Yes." Her dad's reply was drawn out as **_Ye-ss_**.

She huffed. "What I mean is, I can't just rush in—like you. I need a disguise, something that won't be too obvious in case I _**am**_ noticed."

Classic sighed loudly, "Just like your mum. Fine then, here's your disguise." From his quills again he pulled out a lump of cloth. Aleena slipped it on and tugged it down so every inch of her was covered. "Ready now?"

A nod, "I'm ready. But there's just one last question."

"Only the one?"

Aleena arched a brow, "When I get the Emerald back it will low on power, right?" Classic gave a slow nod. "Well," she jerked her head towards the portal, "seeing how primitive their technology is and how they love war and blood-shed, how am I going to solve the impossible task of powering the Emerald with feelings of love and friendship in such a dreadful place?"

Classic slowly grinned, "You've hit the nail right on the head!" The mini version of her dad plunged his hand into the heart of the glowing orb. "Wait. Wait. There he is! The man who loves to solve the impossible." He stepped to the side; Aleena leaned closer and stared into the orbs centre.

She blinked in surprise and asked. "Who is he?" The man in the reflection had a short mop of lightly curled ebony. He had a very pale complexion, was tall and slim and looking pretty foxy. He was wearing a long black, woollen over-coat over a fitted dark suit, and a navy blue scarf wrapped around his neck. But it wasn't any of these things that captured the young Princess. It was his eyes. They were ice-blue and shone with a fierce intellect. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart thudded against her ribs as she stared into those blue eyes. When he smirked he gave the impression that only he knew the answers to the world's deepest, darkest secrets. "Who is he?" She whispered again, a light blush growing on her cheeks.

Classic spotted her reaction and smirked to himself. "His name is Sherlock Holmes. And from this moment on he's also your new best friend."

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><p><strong>It's good to be writing for the Sonic-verse again. I've missed it.<strong>

**Now, about the story. The white-washing of the Void is a similar opening scene to the one of SONIC GENERATIONS. (Hope you don't mind.) **

**I have drafted more chapters, but apart from the main plot and that it is going to be slightly OC/ Sherlock, I have NO idea where I'm going with this.**

**However, if I **_DO_** stray and start becoming Sonic06 in any way, you are free to flame me. But any feedback is welcome.**

**M.x**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two.

The cool London night air made Sherlock Holmes shiver and pull his long coat tighter around his body. Standing next to him, rubbing his hands in an attempt to warm them, was his friend and colleague John Watson.

"Why are **you** here?"

Sherlock forced his facial muscles into a grin and turned to find Anderson sulking at him. "**I'm** here to solve a crime. Why are **you** here?"

"For the same reason."

The detective sniffed and looked away, "Oh, I think not. You're here because your wife is away and so is Donovan. Unable to fend for yourself for one night only, you jumped at the chance when Lestrade called." He leaned closer, "Do you really think **you** can outdo me?"

Anderson's frown deepened, "One day I will. I'll think of something."

"Don't try too hard." Grinned Sherlock pushing past and strolling up to a middle-aged man in a crumpled suit and tie. "What do we have, Lestrade?"

D.I Lestrade gave the two of them a tired but welcoming smile, "Evening, Sherlock. Dr Watson." John nodded and then spied a young lady sitting on the curb with a red blanket over her shoulders. Lestrade caught his gaze and nodded, "Owner of the shop. In a bit of a state, could you?"

"It's quite alright, John," Sherlock was already away examining the outside of the shop, or more importantly the front window, he reached into his pockets and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. "Off you go and help the nice lady. That is your job after-all."

"You're buying dinner later." He mumbled. Sherlock looked over his shoulder at him, smirked playfully in reply, and then hopped into the hole in the glass disappearing into the darkness. With a helpless shrug at Lestrade he made his way over to the shaken women and hunkered down beside her. "Hello." He said kindly, "I'm John. I'm a doctor."

The girl looked up; her eyes were red and puffy. "He-Hello, I'm Julie."

"Julie. That's a nice name. Is this your shop?"

Julie started to sob, "No. It's my dad's. He's gonna kill me when he gets back. If only he hadn't gone to the stupid museum then this wouldn't have happened!" She wept into her hands. "I'm so dead!"

"I'm sure it won't come to that considering the evidence." Both looked up to see Sherlock standing a few feet away. "You said something about a museum. It wouldn't be this one, would it?" He held out a wrinkled piece of paper-a flier- and Julie nodded. "Interesting."

John stood, snatched the paper from him, earning a glare from the detective, and quickly read it. "The London Museum? What's so…"

Sherlock wrinkled his nose and continued despite the interruption. "Your father's jewel collection is impressive, some date right back to the Victorian era, even as far back as to the Egyptians. I don't blame him for wanting to catch a glimpse of the rarity that is housed in the London Museum." Crouching down so he was eye level with her he spoke softly. "The case in the centre of the shop and far right behind the counter, they both held the same type of gem did they not?" Again she nodded and he stood flashing her a quick grin. "Thank-you for your time. Come along, John."

John was just about to offer some medical advice to passing paramedics when he was yanked away by Sherlock's hold on his wrist. When they were out of ear-shot he yanked it back. "Would you explain to me what is going on in the vast brain of yours?"

"I would love to. So shut up and listen. Three…no, four things have come to my attention about this case. Number one: Julie's dad specialises in diamonds, the most expensive of gems, but only his small collection of rare emeralds were stolen. That begs the question: Why? Number two: The London Museum will, more than likely, be the next place to be hit. I found someone had copied the address into the ledger carelessly leaving behind the most unusual finger-prints in oil. Number three: the oil itself. There were smudges on floor leading from the window and I have no idea where it comes from, certainly not England, so we're dealing with a foreigner who's good with machines and has the most disgusting eating habits. The inside of the shop smelt faintly with the aroma of, what I can only describe as, rotten eggs." He shivered. "It was most unpleasant." He found John staring at him looking completely gob-smacked. "Problem?"

"That's three things." John pointed out. "You said _**four**_."

Another playful smirk, "I knew I kept you around for a reason. Number four's is on the rooftops. No! Don't move…just stand…there." Standing in front of John he inclined his head closer and said in soft murmurs. "I wonder who they are. They've been watching the whole time we've been here, but even more perplexing is that they've been watching _**me**_ the whole time."

"There's nobody there."

"What d'you mean…" Sherlock span on the spot his coat-tails whipping at John's legs. "But that's…not possible. I-I saw them! They were right there on the bloody roof. What did they do, run? You can't from those buildings, I've tried. It simply cannot be done!"

"Maybe you should calm down?"

"I _**am**_ calm!"

"Gentlemen, _**please**_. People are starting to stare." Lestrade was now finished with the other officers and pulled out his mobile. "I need you and John to join us at the Yard."

"What the hell for?"

Lestrade looked at him, "Well I was hoping you might have some ideas. Be there at nine, no later."

"Fine. We'll meet you there. John, hail us a cab, I believe I owe you dinner and I need a coffee. A bloody strong one." John gave Lestrade an apologetic shrug before, once again, being yanked away by Sherlock. "_**Now**_, John!"

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><p>Sherlock was the first out of the cab outside Baker Street. The ride had been more than boring. He didn't even know why Lestrade had asked for them to stay behind. John followed him out after paying the cabbie. He watched the taxi pull away and stretched, the joints of his shoulders popping painfully.<p>

"Well," Sherlock said as John searched for his keys, "_**that **_was pointless."

John shook his head, "Yeah, well to _**you **_maybe. I found it quite interesting." He turned the keys in the lock and opened the door. Sherlock pushed past him and headed for the stair-well but stopped just short of it. John looked around him and smiled. "Hello, Mrs Hudson."

Their land-lady turned to face them with a mirrored smile, "Afternoon, boys! Nice time?" John nodded while Sherlock sulked beside him. "Oh, well. Never mind, Sherlock. Something will turn up. Oh, hello, dear. Is everything alright?"

The door to the basement flat-221C- had just opened and a small figure stepped out into the hallway. Mrs Hudson leaned in close to make out what being said. Sherlock studied the newcomer, his eyes roaming over the body mostly hidden by a baggy grey track-suit; the hood was pulled up so their face was hidden. What caught his attention, though, were their big feet in a pair of bright red sneakers with a golden buckle on the outer sides.

Suddenly something niggled at the back of his head. There was something familiar about those shoes. Where had he seen them before?

"New housemate." He heard John murmur and then: "You're doing it already, aren't you? Can't you stop deducing for five seconds?" Sherlock blinked out of his daze when he realized John was no longer at his side and was heading towards the stairs to 221B. "Sherlock!" He hissed reaching over to grab his sleeve and pull him up. "Leave alone."

As Sherlock reluctantly followed he didn't miss the new lodger turn their head in his direction or the piercing gaze sent his way. Upon entering the flat he shredded his coat and scarf, heard John puttering around in the kitchen making a cup of tea and headed straight to his room. He couldn't get those red shoes out of his head. He searched and searched with no avail until he spied a block of wood hiding behind his catalogued mess. Looking at his wardrobe Sherlock huffed and rolled away the chair, loaded with books and files, to one side and pulled open the door carefully. He knelt and rooted around the base until he found what he was looking for and hurried out of the room, nabbing the steaming cup offered and took his place on the sofa.

John had his laptop open and was already typing up their latest case. "What was the name of that…What are you doing?" He half-turned in his seat. Sherlock had just tipped the contents of the box-file onto the coffee table and was flipping over yellowed paper cuttings and faded photographs. "What is all that?" He asked making his way over and sitting in an empty space on the couch.

Sherlock looked at him. "Research."

"About what?" John picked up a photo and glanced at it. Turning it over he could just read Sherlock's curly script. "_**Pierre de Mort? **_Wait. Isn't that the gemstone Lestrade was going on about?" Sherlock smirked at him and the penny dropped. "That's why you weren't interested. You knew about the stone before we even stepped foot into the office." His eyes fell onto the mass of papers. "What _**IS**_ all this anyway?"

"An obsession." Replied the detective coolly. "You're right, John. I've been following the _**Pierre de Mort**_ all my life, ever since I found it in the pages of a forgotten History book at secondary school. The idea that a simple jewel could bring death to anyone who owned it fascinated me. I had to know everything so I started digging around, as I did I found that the stone, not only had a murderous past, but also…" from the mass he pulled out a crumpled page, John guessed from an art book, of a faded painting and handed it to him, " bottom corner, John. What do you see?"

John took the offered magnified glass and peered closely at requested corner. "Nothing out of the ordinary." Sherlock huffed. "OK. I'll look again. Well, it looks like a group of people..." His brows drew together. "Wait. That person there…Is that a tracksuit?"

Sherlock grinned. "Bravo, John. A tracksuit in the Victorian times. That person has popped up through-out the jewel's past. Always in a tracksuit." He sat back in his seat pressing his fingertips together. "Check the footwear." Magnified glass up again John squinted and then he blinked, looked across at Sherlock who hummed in approval. "Red trainers with a single white stripe across the middle."

"The same shoes worn by Mrs Hudson's new lodger." John shook his head. "Truth be told, I haven't seen anyone else wearing a similar design. Might be a hand-me-down." He followed up that train of thought when Sherlock raised a dark brow. "They could be a descendent."

"Maybe. Or…?"

"Or…What, you think it's the same person?" He shook his head again. "That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible, John. Not in our line of work." A head tilt and a smirk. "You know that."

With a final head shake John set down the cutting and glass and went back to his laptop. "So, what's your next move?"

Sherlock twisted in his seat so that he was lying along the couch, his fingers steepled, pressed against his lips and eyes closed in thought. He was silent for a few minutes and then: "We need to watch this new comer closely, John. The _**Pierre de Mort**_ obviously means something to them. By popping up throughout the past they **wanted** to get noticed. It's a straight forward cry for help."

John, who had started nodding in agreement, frowned. "What? You're saying they did all this to get help?" Sherlock nodded. "But, from who?"

The detective opened his eyes, fixed him with an ice-blue gaze and smirked. "Me."

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><p><strong>Yeah…Oddness thy name is this fic.<strong>

**Who robbed the store and why only Emeralds? That shouldn't be too hard to figure out. Sherlock and John have met a new lodger. Who are they? Again, shouldn't be too hard.**

**Will pick up in up-coming chapters. Promise.**

**M.x**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry to those who have been waiting for up-dates. But good news! I had some free time on my hands lately and managed to get not one, not two… but **three** chapters done. Aren't you lucky readers? Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter Three.<span>

Three days after meeting the new lodger of 221C Sherlock quickly established a routine for them. They would leave at ten, be back at one and then leave again an hour later returning just before mid-night. Waiting by the window he would say a mumbled good-bye to John as he left for the surgery and stand there for hours, watching.

Today he decided, today he would follow and get more data. At five minutes past ten he looked down into the street and smirked, the new-comer was standing directly below him. They looked both ways before heading down the street. Sherlock sprang into action: grabbing his coat and scarf he pocketed his keys and phone and dashed out the door. He quickly found them at the end of the street, just about to turn the corner, and picked up the pace. Sherlock was about a minute behind them, they came to a crossing and he planted him-self amongst the crowd that had gathered, his quarry couldn't see him but he could see them. The lights changed and he moved with the sea of bodies, getting jostled and bumped along the way. When he got to the other-side of the road he scanned the immediate area but found no sign of his prey. Suddenly a piercing whistle sounded, he span on the spot and a short gasp left his lips. There, just about to head down a side alley, on the side of the pavement he'd just crossed was his target. He blinked: he had kept them in his sights all the way across, how the hell did they get back over there so quickly? The lights changed again but that didn't stop Sherlock from running back over. Car horns hooted and drivers shouted abuse but he paid them no mind. Darting into the mouth of the alley he found it was empty. **What the hell!** With a frustrated growl the detective shoved his hands in his coat pockets and went for a walk.

If Sherlock had bothered to look up he would have seen a pair of green eyes track his every move.

Aleena smiled to her-self, she knew Sherlock had been watching her and knew he would take action if she changed her routine (even in the slightest). Playing the game of Cat and Mouse reminded her of home; she played with her little brother Nova in the Palace gardens when they were kids, they were both a little older now but there were others who still played with her and just because she was on a mission she couldn't get rusty, Mr Holmes had kindly provided the means to hone her skills, and it seemed he liked to play too. Aleena made sure that Sherlock had turned the corner before dropping back down into the street. She went the opposite way to him and headed into town. Making sure that her hood was up at all times she did a bit of grocery shopping and brought a few more things for the flat. Simple things that she could get rid of or donate after her mission was completed. On her way back to Baker Street, arms loaded with carrier bags, she bumped into someone and fell flat on her butt with a squeak.

"For someone who goes out at un-Godly hours alone, you are scared very easily."

She quickly scrambled to her feet. A packet of cookies had escaped and was rolling away from her, as she reached over to nab it a gloved hand covered hers and squeezed lightly. Looking up, and thankful that the hood shielded her face which was now cherry red, the princess met grey eyes that glinted in the light.

"Um…"

"Sherlock Holmes. 221B." He offered her the biscuits which she took and stuffed into an already over-flowing bag. "So you're the new lodger. Mrs Hudson has been looking for a tenant for the basement flat for ages," he leaned close, eyes narrowing, "what made you take it?"

"I…it was perfect for me and it came cheap."

He stepped back with an, "I see." turned and unlocked the outer door. Opening it he made sure that there was just enough room for her to inch past and moved to the side to allow her entry. As she past him he heard her quick intake of breath when he 'accidentally' brushed her lower back as he guided her inside and smirked when, upon reaching her door, she became flustered and fumbled around with her key. At his amused chuckle she turned round and glared at him, opening her mouth…

And then her mobile went off.

Dropping the bags she fished out her phone and placed it to her ear, "Hello? Yes, I'm at the flat. What? Where? Understood, I'm on my way now." Hanging up she picked up her fallen shopping, elbowed open the door, disappeared into the flat and then returned 30 seconds later. She was half way out the door when she noticed that Sherlock was still standing there and watching her every move fiercely. "Mr Holmes?"

Sherlock stepped up to her and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. "You know where to find me. Don't be scared, I don't bite."

She nodded, "I know, just not now. It's not time yet." She edged around him and walked out leaving a very confused looking Sherlock in the hallway. Once out of sight Aleena revved up and took off leaving a dust cloud in her wake. Finally she had a lead in this time zone and it couldn't have come sooner.

After a quick run and hop over the vast ocean that separated the two continents Aleena found her-self in France. The place, that the caller had told her to go, was a favourite with tourists and she wondered if they had gotten the wrong information. She quickly found a good hiding place and waited, pondering. Surely the Prof wasn't going to risk all these innocents? Movement caught her eye and she peered down. **Aahh!** **There's the Prof****,**** but who's that with him? ** The Professor was walking along-side a smaller, thinner man dressed in a very smart suit and tie. They seem to be in deep conversation and consulting numerous brochures and pamphlets. They talked for ages, and at one point, the Professor got really angry and shoved the smaller man.

The smaller male squealed, yes actually _**squealed**_, pushed away the intruding fingers and wiped down the front of his suit. Aleena was near enough to hear him say, "Do you mind? This is Westwood." After an age it seemed they came to an understanding and headed off, Aleena waited for few seconds and followed…well into the night.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Later...<em>**

**Everything's the same…yet so different.** Aleena sat on the cathedral's rooftop, half–hidden amongst the ugly statues. Using all the tracking techniques, that her uncle Knuckles and aunt Rouge had taught her, she followed the Professor (and his smartly dressed friend) to the next intended target. She heard the faint rush of wind and glanced sideways with a small grin on her face.

"I thought you couldn't leave The Void."

The tiny blue hedgehog crouched next to her and shrugged. "Things have stabilized a bit. I can help-out, _**properly**_, this time." Classic leaned over the edge a little scanning the ground below. "What's the skinny? How many and what do they look like?"

"Two. I think it's the hands of the Profs Terrorizer suit. Over the years he's made some improvements to it. Slimmed it down, changed the colour to black. He says it makes him look thinner… And I know you're giggling over there, please stop and concentrate on the mission." She glanced over a second time to find Classic sprawled in his back, feet in the air holding his sides with tears of laughter running down his cheeks. "Dad!" She hissed.

Classic raised a hand and struggled to his feet, "Sorry, sorry. I'll behave." There came an almighty crash followed by screams and shrieks. "Sounds like the Prof just made his move. Let's go!" With a wink Classic took a running jump and flew off the roof. Aleena sighed but then grinned and followed his lead. Classic was hurling down the buildings sides in free-fall, half way down he tucked his arms close to his side. Aleena copied, the wind rushing through her hair and she laughed.

Father and daughter twisted in mid-fall to land on their feet. In front of them stood two hulking masses of metal that did, indeed, look like giant hands. The pair of mechanical limbs lifted up their little fingers and began shooting at the on-coming hedgehogs who dodged each round with ease. Classic went one way, Aleena the other, zigzagging across each other's paths and confusing the firing hands. The two thought they were gaining ground when said ground shook as something even heavier landed, the hands stopped firing and shot up and back through the air to re-connect with chunky, shiny wrists.

"_**Good evening, rodents."**_

Classic grinned, "Hey, it's the Prof! How's it's hanging, Lard-belly?"

"_**Oh, **__please__**. Do we really have to do this? It's **__so__** boring."**_

While the two exchanged the usual pleasantries Aleena felt the fine fur on the back of her neck stand up and her skin prickle. Something didn't feel right. She was vaguely aware that Classic and Eggman had stopped talking and were now fighting it out. There came a cry and she ducked, just in time, Classic soared over her head, curled into a protective ball. He bounced on the pavement twice and rolled to a stop behind her. He unfurled and gave her a 'what are you waiting for?' look before revving up and diving back in. The princess shook off her insecurities and joined her father. The duo of super-speedsters ran full-pelt at the Terrorizer, repeatedly hitting the battle suit at its weak points. The armoured mad-man fired off round after round, missing the two hedgehogs and hitting nearby buildings, just missing a patch of road that had been dug up for gas works. Aleena and Classic skidded to a stop in front of him and nodded to each-other. Timing their joint attack down to the last second, twin balls of light (blue and purple) hit the metal beast square in the chest with a double strength Homing Attack.

The Egg-Terrorizer fell down onto its back with a low groan. One of its fists slammed into the pavement catching the gas pipes underneath and sent up a wall of fire across the road. It was silent but then a lone figure jumped over the flaming wall to land safely in a crouch. Aleena walked away from the carnage in one piece with only a couple of scratches. The light from the fires made her lilac fur appear a rich deep plum and her ginger hair, that had spilled from her ponytail, whip around her like a bloody water-fall. She took a couple of steps forward and then stopped. Her heart thudded in her chest. There, standing at a street corner, was that smartly dressed man she'd seen with the Professor…and he was holding up a camera. He had taped the whole thing!

Panic crashed over the princess in waves and she dashed off in high speeds to find cover. The man smirked at her dust trail, lowered the camera-phone, punched in a number and pressed _**SEND**__**.**_ He nodded at a second man coming his way. The Professor didn't have a mark on him, the reason being he wasn't in the Battle-suit at all but had fought the whole fight via remote control. The plan they had cooked up had worked perfectly. "I think it's time. Don't you?"

Eggman grinned at him, "_**To kill two birds with one stone**_? Quite literary in this case. I like the way you think, Mr Moriarty."

The man returned his grin, "Please, call me Jim." Moriarty took out his phone, typed a quick text to one number and a slightly longer one to another. "There! All done! Tea?"

* * *

><p>"Geez! There you are, I was worried!" Classic enveloped his little girl in a warm hug. He sensed her fear and pulled back. "What happened?" Aleena told him about the man and the camera, Classic folded his arms and paced, after a while he stopped and looked up, "This might be a blessing in disguise. You wanted to get noticed, now might be your chance. The man who filmed you, did you recognise him?"<p>

Aleena nodded, "I think he's working with Eggman." Classic frowned, "Doesn't look like a blessing now, eh, dad?"

"It still could be if we're two steps ahead. I think it's time to reveal your-self to Sherlock Holmes. Unless…" He caught her blush and sighed with a grin, "You've it already, haven't you?"

The princess felt bad, "He didn't see my face! I-I swear. It's just…I was late out and he followed me, we played Cat and Mouse and he nearly caught me. I went shopping, drop my biscuits and he picked them up for me. He was so nice, daddy, his voice and his eyes…" She stopped catching Classic raised questioning brow. "Oohh, shut up!" She hissed, her dad just laughed. Aleena couldn't help it and joined in too. That's when her S-Pod chimed with a new message. Reflexively she reached into her hip-pouch and withdrew it. The text was from a blocked number and was a simple poem:

_**Speedy, speedy, little hedge-rat.**_

_**How I wonder where you at.**_

_**From a world up in the sky.**_

_**Like a gleaming diamond that's caught my eye.**_

_**Come and play.**_

_**London museum, the 18**__**th**__** at mid-night.**_

_**M.x**_

Aleena re-read the text and then showed it to Classic, the frown came back deeper this time, "Do you know who this M is?"

The princess shook her head, "No. But it looks like he knows about the Chaos Emerald…Oh Crystal!" A terrified look entered her eyes, "Do you think he's going to try and steal it?"

"Looks that way. Well, princess," Classic smirked at her, "how about we have a daddy/daughter date? Does the museum sound good?"

She grinned back, "Sounds good to me, dad."

* * *

><p><strong>OK, so Moriarty is involved. <strong>

**Aleena and Sherlock have met but won't be properly introduce until later. (Or maybe not…) Click next to find out.**

**Reviews are love!**


	4. Chapter 4

_**I panicked for a second before posting because I cut some this chapter out and posted it as number three and couldn't remember that I had done so. Spent 30 minutes shouting at my screen, tearing my hair out 'cause I thought I had to do over, (I got terrible memory) but then I read the beginning of this chapter…and felt rather foolish. (DOH!)**_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Four.<span>

The next day found Sherlock lazing about on the sofa. Lestrade, happy with what he got from the detective, was now busy with typing up the final report about the jeweller's burglary and had sent him home for pestering him about other un-solved crimes. Sherlock looked longingly at his skull, but knew that his secret supply of fags were long gone, and sighed loudly. "Bored...Bored…BORED!" With a huff he rolled onto his back, hands pressed together and fingertips resting against his lips, he closed his eyes and entered his Mind Palace. He shifted through all the information collected on the priceless _**Pierre de Mort**_, the mysterious figure in grey, who was with-out doubt the new lodger. What was the phone call she received that made her leave so abruptly? And her parting words, what did she mean by them?

An E-mail alert brought him out of his stupor, "John? John!" He called out; no reply came from the doctor. Sherlock huffed again in annoyance sitting up, his blue dressing slipped from his shoulders and parted at the knees revealing a grey t-shirt and pale blue flannel bottoms, his silver eyes scanned the flat and fell onto the mornings' paper. He groaned, "Of course, it's Tuesday. Double shift and then drinks with Stamford. Stupid, stupid!"

"_**You have E-Mail." **_

"Yes, thank-you. I figured that one out for…Oh, God! **I'm** talking to machines now. Will somebody shoot me? Please? Anyone?" No reply in the empty flat. He threw up his hands, stormed over to the desk and plonked down into the chair in front of his laptop (John had managed to hide his away, successfully, this time.) and logged on. He scrolled down his waiting E-Mails, deleting the ones from Mycroft, congratulating Lestrade on a job well done, until coming to one from France. His lips quirked into a half-smirk reading the name of the sender. He hadn't heard from Zoe, his connection with the French Police, for months. He clicked open the message and sat back.

_Dear Sherry,_ (Sherlock frowned at the nick-name Zoe insisted on calling him and read on.)

_I hear congratulations are in order for solving another case. Well done you! _

_Your latest case is the reason why I've contacted. A matter has come to light that I think would interest you. Last night a thief broke into three jewellery shops _(**Boring!** Thought Sherlock.)_ The only things stolen were rare gems: green emeralds, in fact. _(Sherlock's brows lifted, **OK not so boring**.) _The strangest thing is when they tried to break into a fourth somebody stopped them. Now here's the best bit, attached to this E-mail is a video file sent by an unknown civilian. I've done what I can to improve the quality but it's still blurry. The French police do not know that I have a copy so please be careful with who you share with. _

_If anyone can solve this it's you._

The detective clicked on the attached file and scooted closer, the video was poor and he had to watch it over and over so he could take in all the details and store away the information for a later date. His brows furrowed at the end and he rewound to the last couple of minutes, turning the volume up high. The flat filled with gun fire, shouts, grunts and moans ending with an explosion. _**Oh…There! **_A figure was walking towards the screen before releasing that they were being filmed and shot off in a fast run. Sherlock sat back in his chair, a tiny smile on his lips. Quickly fiddling about with the computer he stood by the window tapping his foot as the printer shot out a crumpled piece of paper. Sherlock held it to the light, cocked his head slightly pursing his lips. With a marker pen he laid the print-out flat on the table and drew around the blurred image. Soon he stood back to admire his work, the figure now looked more human: there was a head with long flowing hair, two arms, two legs with big red feet and a torso…Sherlock looked closely at the torso, blinked and added an extra detail. _**Not a torso**_, he corrected himself, _**a chest**_. Sitting back down he lightly ran his ring finger over his lips as he processed this new piece of information.

Female. Who-ever stopped the fourth robbery was a female. His head lolled back on the back rest and he sank further down in his seat. Finally he had a figure he could study that wasn't hidden under a bulky grey track-suit. Looking at the picture again a soft smirk crossed his mouth, even though the photograph was blurry his out-lines showed that the woman looked (as John often described the girls on his crap reality shows) quite fit.

Warmth settled in the pit of his stomach. He blinked, looked down and gingerly placed a hand on his abdomen, his skin prickled and the warmth travelled lower. Sherlock bit his lower lip, he often didn't feel it necessary to indulged in the very basic of human needs, like finding physical release, but sometimes, the body does over-rule the mind. Rolling his eyes up-wards he followed the tingling of his skin with his fingers, sinking lower and lower in his chair…

His mobile bleeped with an incoming text. A sneer flickered across his lips as he read it. It was from Mycroft. _**Aw, bloody hell!**_

**Don't even think about it, dear brother. MH**

_Don't know what you're on about. SH_

**You know exactly what I'm on about. You know how I detested such actions. MH**

_If it bothers you sooo much, look the other way. SH_

**What would mummy think? MH **

_Don't give a toss what our Mother thinks. She never did when I was little. If you don't want to be embarrassed in front of the Government turn off the cameras. SH._

It was quiet for a couple of seconds and then his phone beeped again.

**I'll give you one hour. MH**

_Fine. Now piss off and leave me alone. SH._

Even though Mycroft had promised an hour Sherlock still didn't trust him. There were only a few places in the flat where one could truly be alone: the bathroom, John's room (he really didn't feel like explaining himself afterwards.) and his room. Snatching up the print-out the younger Holmes hurried to his room, shut and bolted the door behind him and didn't resurface until late evening. Strolling into the sitting room he found a very relieved looking John sipping a cup of tea and watching the video.

"Finally he emerges from his pit." John nodded to an extra cup on the coffee table, "Coffee. Black with two sugars."

"You're a life saver." Sherlock took a grateful sip and sighed happily. He noticed John's brow furrowing deeper and deeper and then the doctor looked up. He quirked a dark brow. "Something wrong, John?"

"What the hell is this, Sherlock?" He paused the computer and jabbed a finger at the fuzzy shape on screen. It was big and black with glowing eyes and, in front of it, zigzagging across its middle were two lines of colour: one blue and one purple. "Is this for real? I mean…I've watched it over and over again, and this bit near the end…I can make out something and then it just vanishes in a blur of purple." He looked up brows furrowing. "Nothing can move that fast. No known thing can move with lighting speed. So, tell me, great detective: what the hell is it?"

Taking his seat on the sofa Sherlock crossed his legs at the ankles and cocked his head slightly, "John, let's look at the facts. We know that someone has been following the _**Pierre de Mort**_ for years always in the same clothes and seemingly never ageing. With this in mind I can safely assume that this person has the ability to journey through time. Don't stare with your mouth hanging open, John, you'll catch flies." He shifted into a more comfortable position and continued, "Let's take in recent events. Several jewellery shops have been broken into here, and in France, the only gems missing are Emeralds. That being said, in France this person stopped the thief with help. This person is very fast, very precise in their actions, very strong and above all, perhaps the most endearing factor, this person is a female, John."

"How on Earth did you deduce that?"

"It's quite simple really. From this," From his pocket he produced the print-out and handed it over. John squinted at the out-lined figure and bit his lip seemingly in two minds about asking his next question. To put him out of his misery Sherlock answered for him. "This person, if it is a person, isn't from Earth and is definitely not from this dimension."

"Are you saying..?"

"Yes, John. I believe this being is an alien."

John gaped at him, "Are you being serious? An alien? Sherlock, you of all people, don't believe in the supernatural."

"Well…"

John cut him off, "_The Geek Interpreter, The Lost Vampire-"_

"Our friends in the USA helped us with that one. And, slowly, I am coming to terms that secret organisations of young ladies hunt the un-dead for a living. Everybody needs a job."

A huff of breath, "All right, what about Baskerville?"

Sherlock slowly put his cup down and fixed John with a stare. "What about it?"

"You nearly freaked out when you thought you saw the hound, _**'a gigantic hound.'**_ Those were your words, Sherlock, and…is that your phone?"

The detective rooted around his pockets pulling out the black mobile, "Text message." He read it and his face turned into a frown, "John, look at this." John got up and peered at the lines of text on the small screen, soon he was wearing a similar frown. "Phone Lestrade and tell him to bring along his least annoying officers." John nodded, reached for his own phone and got calling pacing the floor as he did so. When he turned, so he had his back to Sherlock, he missed the smile on his flat-mates lips as he re-read the text again:

**Can Sherlock come out and play?**

**London museum, the 18****th**** at mid-night.**

**M.x**

He had a feeling he'd be getting a new client soon.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I hope that SummerAtMidnight likes my little nod at one of her fave TV shows. At least…I think it's still one of her faves.<strong>_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Last chapter until my fingers recover from cramp. Enjoy folks!**_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Five<span>.

**The night of the 18th, nearly mid-night...**

"You better be right about this. I've got all available officers keeping watch outside. And they're not happy." D.I. Lestrade looked at Sherlock who was wandering around the other cases examining every inch before starting on the next one. "What makes you think someone will steal it tonight, Holmes?"

Sherlock huffed and stood to his full height. From his pocket he pulled out his mobile and shoved it under Lestrade's nose. "Somebody tipped me off."

"That text?" said John, looking questioning at him, "Do you think it really might be _**him**_, even after all this time_?_"

"Oh yes." Sherlock coolly replied. "We know that Moriarty hates being bored, he's needs a distraction. Thinks the life of crime as a game. I don't intend to lose this round. This diamond..." He gestured to the single case in the middle of the room where a majestic sized jewel sat on a red cushion, shaming all the other gems on show. "...is worth a fortune. He could use it to fund hundreds of criminal schemes, and I won't let that happen."

John shrugged, "OK then, what's the plan?"

Sherlock smirked at him. "We wait."

* * *

><p>The clock chimed mid-night and there was still no sign of any-one. John covered his mouth and yawned loudly. Sherlock beside him shot him a look of contempt. He scanned every wall, the tiled floor and then the ceiling...And slowly, very slowly, grinned. He nudged John with his arm and silently pointed up-wards. John followed his finger and nodded moving into a better position.<p>

The sky-light of the gallery where they were hiding was suddenly blocked from the outside. Who-ever was on the other side of the glass quickly cut out a large round hole and jumped in. They fell and, without making a sound, landed in a crouch. The intruder looked both ways before moving towards the case that housed the giant diamond. They moved silently in the darkness and reached the gem in seconds, stopping as they peered at it through the protective casing.

"A simple glass box can't hold you." Sherlock blinked. The thief was _**talking **_to the jewel as if it were alive? "I know. You got here first and I'm sorry. I'll get you out and then we can go home." There came the sound of the case being lifted and put on the tiled floor. John made his move.

"John? John, wait!" The sound of bullets firing echoed off the walls, from his hiding place, Sherlock could make out a fuzzy blur move in the shadows. The blur stopped meters from him and he got a proper look at the thief. His eyes widened in shock. John turned, spotted the thief and took aim again. Sherlock had to act and act fast. "No, John, stop!" He knocked John's arm to the side. The shot missed by inches. Sherlock sighed deeply and looked at his friend. "I'm sorry. But I had to."

"Really? What clever **_'out of this world '_ **explanation did you come up with this time? Because unless it _**is **_aliens, I'm not interested." John checked how many bullets he had left and groaned, "Great. Just great, one left. Now where'd that little bugger go?" Without waiting for Sherlock to stop him he edged his way around the display cases looking for the thief.

Sherlock watched John disappear out of sight and then turned on his heels. A smirk flickered over his thin lips. "Hello." A big, purple creature was standing in front of him, tensed and ready for a fight, holding the grey diamond in her hand. Green eyes met blue, both studied the other until the creature nodded once and slipped into a relaxed posture. "Much better." Sherlock tilted his head, his eyes quickly roaming the creature. "Would you like to hear my conclusions?"

The creature shrugged, "Thrill me."

Sherlock nodded, walking around her, his fingers steepled. "You're a girl that much is obvious, despite your fitted body-suit, long hair and the colour purple. You're a runner; the soles of your shoes are well worn. There are traces of mud on the rims but also hints of black dust, at a glance, I'd say gun powder but it's old. So you've been at war. You're a fighter and have been most of your life, the précised execution of your attacks are the results of years of practice. How am I doing so far?"

Another shrug, "Pretty good. Keep going."

"Ah. So, there's more? Let's see." Sherlock moved closer, the creature tightened her hold on the gem. "Oh! So that's it! The gem belongs to you. It doesn't belong here, so the story behind it is true?" A nod. His brain processed and stored that bit of information for later. He studied the animal opposite; she was an odd looking thing. She could be an experiment, a super beast...He shook his head. No, at best the results were only mice that were 20 per cent bigger and twice as dumb. This creature could walk and talk, and perform incredible stunts. His voiced his observations as he slowly worked it out. "The gem _**DID**_ come from the skies and you've been sent here after it." He watched the creature smirk at him and scuffed the floor with her trainers. His eyes widened. "You have the power to manipulate time to pop up in history but that's impossible…unless…" He closed his eyes briefly slotting all the facts together. The gem and the girl had both come from the skies and, as much as he hated to go down _**THAT**_ road it seemed the only one that made sense. Again he opened them to voice his deductions. "You're not from this world, you're an-"

"I'm not an alien!" Snapped the creature. "I'm Aleena the Hedgehog, Princess of the planet New Mobius, leader of the Freedom Fighters and in desperate need of your help, Mr Holmes."

Sherlock stood with his mouth slightly open, he then blinked and closed it. "You need my help?"

"Yes!" Aleena rubbed a hand over her face, "For a genius you're pretty slow on the up-take." Sherlock frowned, "That was a joke. You know what a joke is, right?"

"Of course," Sherlock said, adding dryly. "Very funny. Now, what seems to be the problem?"

Aleena grinned, "An unsolvable one. I need to get home and I can't. Not unless-"

"Sherlock? Sherlock! I heard voices and- it's them!" John, seemingly from no-where, raised his gun and aimed squarely at Aleena's head. Aleena sighed with a bored expression. "Sherlock, move away...Slowly."

"Should I?" Aleena looked quickly in Sherlock's direction before nodding in John's.

Sherlock smirked, "Be my guest." Aleena vanished in a blur of purple. She circled the two men, gathering speed quickly. John had to shield his face from the growing winds while Sherlock stood quite still, his coat-tails flapping in the breeze. A second later and Aleena stood in front of them again, hardly out of puff. John raised his hands once more. "Uh, John?" Muttered Sherlock, "Haven't you forgotten something?"

John screwed his face up in confusion before looking down at his hands. They were now empty, "What the hell? Where's my..." He looked up and found Aleena with a big grin on her muzzle and _**his **_gun in her hand. "...Gun?" He looked pleadingly at Sherlock, "Explanation now, please."

"Yes. But first introductions, Dr John Watson meet Aleena the Hedgehog. Aleena, Dr John Watson. Aleena is our new client," he told a completely baffled John, "with a fascinating new case, it appears."

"Our new... B-but she's a... She's a...Big, purple hedgehog! And she's a thief; she's got the gem right in her hand. She stole it."

"Well..." Sherlock calmly took the gun from Aleena and handed it back to John. He stepped between them, in case John got trigger-happy again, and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. "You can't steal something that's already yours."

"Already..?"

"Is there a parrot in the room?" Aleena asked, getting slightly ticked off, "Because I'm hearing an awful noise and it's getting on my nerves." She walked up to John and looked him right in the eyes. "Yes, I'm a big, purple hedgehog. Any other questions?"

"Loads. But maybe we should continue this back home. I can hear sirens."

Sherlock turned his head towards the double doors of the museums entrance with a frown. "You and your gun, doctor. The shots have alerted the police. That would be Lestrade." He turned to the girl hedgehog. "Aleena, meet us back at Baker Street. Mrs Hudson is out for the evening so there's no need for your disguise. Use the front door and go straight to 221B. But don't touch anything while you're waiting. Trust me." He added when Aleena opened her mouth to ask why. "John, we need to reassure the police that the diamond is in its casing. Run to the gift shop and grab one of the diamond shaped paper-weights...the biggest one you can find, that should do it." The sound of the sirens grew closer.

John nodded and headed to the gift shop. Aleena tucked the gem into her hip-pouch and grinned at Sherlock before revving up; shooting up the wall and out the hole she used to get in. Sherlock watched her go with amusement.

* * *

><p>After a de-briefing with Lestrade and the others, Sherlock hailed a cab and quickly bundled John into it. Once settled he got out his phone and began playing with the keys. John looked out the windows, the last hour or so still on his mind. Beside him Sherlock grunted and he turned his head.<p>

"Problem?" He asked.

"Not anymore." The dark haired man gave him a serious look. "If you get any texts from my brother, do me a favour and delete them."

"Delete them?" John repeated.

"Delete them." Sherlock pocketed his phone. "If Mycroft gets wind of this he'll blow it out of portion, like he always does, it could get very bad for Aleena. And us." The cab rounded the corner into Baker Street. Sherlock looked out the window. The house was still standing. "Well, at least she's got some common sense to listen." He jumped out of the cab and headed for the front door while John paid the cabbie. He opened the door and the two of them ran into Mrs Hudson, who was dressed in her over coat with a hand-bag draped over her arm, in the process of going out. Their land-lady had a very odd expression on her face.

John gently shook her on the arm. "Mrs Hudson?"

"She's in shock. The identity of her newest lodger has finally been revealed." John frowned slightly at him "It was Aleena all this time, John." John gaped at him. He shrugged, "I'll explain everything later. Right now, I need a cup of tea. I'll leave you to deal with Mrs Hudson." Sherlock pushed past him and up the stairs while John steered Mrs Hudson away from the door and back to her flat. Once she was safe he hurried up after Sherlock and ran smack into his back. "She's sitting on my couch, John."

John peered around him. Sure enough Aleena was lounging back against the cushions, her feet crossed at the ankles and resting on the coffee table. She was spinning the grey jewel on her index finger with a soft smile on her lips. Sherlock coughed in annoyance and she stopped. Seeing the two of them standing in the door-way, she grinned widely.

"Love what you've done with the place. Not sure about the skull, though."

Behind a frowning Sherlock, John bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I'm jumping the gun! The ending is already done and (I know this is going to sound lame) is written to 'The Woman' from the new Sherlock soundtrack. I love that song…I am 100 per-cent Sherlocked.<strong>_


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, there. I think I should point out that this story takes place during series two and after The Hounds of Baskerville.**

**Here they meet Classic for the first time and Sherlock starts to learn about Aleena's Chaos powers (slightly OC/Sherlock in this one.)**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6.<span>

Mrs Hudson carefully set aside dirty dishes making a clear space on the kitchen table, Sherlock could moan about ruined experiments later, this time they were going to eat in the proper place seeing as they had a very important guest staying with them. She hummed to her-self making up a fresh pot of tea. She turned and smiled warmly. "It's so nice that you don't have to hide from me anymore, dearie."

Aleena smiled over the rim of her cup, "I think so too, Mrs Hudson. I'm really sorry for scaring you the other night. I know," lowering the cup, a gleam entered her green eyes, "let me get you a present to make up for it." She started to rise from her chair.

"Oh, no! Y-you don't have-"

"I think that's a brilliant idea." said a baritone voice from the doorway at the back of the kitchen. Sherlock appeared, wrapped up in a single sheet looking like a Roman statue made from marble, both Mrs Hudson and Aleena diverted their gazes. The detective had obviously just woken up: his soft curls were more dishevelled than normal, voice rough and eyes tired. "After-noon, ladies."

"Tea, Sherlock?"

"Thank-you." Sherlock sipped the warm liquid closing his eyes as it soothed his throat and cleared away the cobwebs. Mrs Hudson gave him a motherly smile before turning and buttering some toast. She laid the plate in front of him and he opened his eyes, they narrowed at the food. "Ah, you've been talking to John again."

"Please, Sherlock. Just have one slice, or I could do you egg and soldiers. Would you like that instead?"

Aleena looked puzzled, "It's only breakfast. Why are you afraid of breakfast?" Sherlock glared at her, she stared blankly back and then shrugged. "If you don't want it," reaching over she plucked a slice from the plate and popped it into her mouth. "Waste not, want not."

Sherlock was ready with a snappy come-back when John entered the kitchen pulling his favourite stripy jumper over his head. He grinned at the scene in front of him. "I see you're playing nice for a change, Sherlock." He graciously accepted the cup from Mrs Hudson and took his place at the end of the table, smiling up at the land-lady when she settled a heaping plate in front of him. "Looks lovely, Mrs H."

Mrs Hudson made sure everyone had full cups before heading out to meet her friends for a day of Bingo. John tucked into his breakfast with gusto, Sherlock and Aleena glared at each other. It was quiet until Sherlock suddenly grunted, his cheeks turning a nice shade of pink. John looked up briefly with a raised brow, his flat-mate just shook his head indicating he didn't need to get involved; the ex-Army doctor shrugged and sliced up a sausage. There came another grunt- only softer this time- when John looked up for a second time he found Aleena's face now had a pink glow to it. Bemused he quickly glanced under the table and frowned slightly at what he saw.

Two set of legs: Sherlock's pale ones (sticking out the bottom of the sheet) on the left, and what he saw of Aleena's tanned ones (the hem of her night-dress stopped at the knees) on the right. To begin with nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Aleena flicked out a leg and caught Sherlock on the shin making the detective snort. Sherlock retaliated a split-second later catching her just above the ankle. The Princess hissed in real pain this time, her short socks didn't cover the bony area Sherlock had kicked, and reached under to rub but Sherlock got there first, his foot nudged her hand to one side soothing away the hurt in small circles. John stared in disbelief at what he was seeing.

Sherlock Holmes was playing Footies with a bloody Princess! The scene was so comical John had to stay under the table to curb his giggling.

"They make a nice couple, don't they?" said an unfamiliar voice in his ear.

"What the hell!" John fell off his chair in his rush from under the table and landed on his back on the wooden floor. Looking to his left he met a pair of red sneakers, nearly the same as Aleena's, and thin blue legs. Eyes going up past the legs, to a round belly and head covered in rows of short, neat spikes his tawny eyes met large black ones that twinkled. He managed to crane his head to one side and met Aleena's sheepish expression. "One of yours?"

She nodded, "Sherlock and John, this is my dad- Sonic the Hedgehog. Dad, Sherlock and John."

Sherlock had gotten up from his seat and was now leaning over the small blue creature. His silver eyes narrowed slightly, "I don't see any family resemblance."

Classic cocked his head to one side, "No you wouldn't. I'm a younger version of her father and her guide in this strange world. It's a long story for another time, Mr Holmes." Sherlock shrugged. Classic continued, "The short of it is quite simple: Past and present have joined forces and when our mission is complete, we'll both be returned to our own time-lines." He pushed back the cuff of his glove and frowned, "Princess, you're late for your training. Go get dressed; I'll meet you on the roof."

"Why don't you do it here?" The suggestion was out of John's mouth before he could stop it. Sherlock shot him an amused look and nodded in agreement. "We could clear a space for you to work in. Plus," He added slyly, "it would give Sherlock a chance to observe Aleena at close quarters." Sherlock flushed a bright red and suddenly found the cold toast on his plate highly interesting.

Aleena turned to face Classic, who nodded. She took a steady breath. "O-K…Yeah, why not."

John grinned, "Great! Let's clear a path." Together John and the two hedgehogs moved the coffee table to one side and pushed the two arm chairs further apart, leaving a big enough space for Aleena to move about. Classic took a spare chair and stood it in front of the couch, as he climbed onto it he observed the yellow smiley face sprayed on the wall and the bullet holes. John caught his gaze and jerked a thumb behind them. "He was bored."

"Bored? And does your land-lady mind that there are holes in her walls?"

Watson shrugged, "Not all the time."

"I best not do any-more damage then." Aleena stood behind them tying her hair into a serviceable pony-tail. "Don't look so alarmed, Doctor. Classic is just going to throw balls of Chaos energy at me and I have to block them. I'm getting very good at it."

"Well, then, why are we talking? Get on with it." Sherlock had risen from his seat, still clad in his sheet, and leaning against the sliding doors. His eyes never left the Princess. "I want to know, want to _**see **_what secrets you possess, your Highness." John blinked at him; it was rare that Sherlock showed any manners to anyone. Aleena stared back, a cute blush rising and then slowly nodded. A cat-like grin spread over the detective's lips.

John cleared his throat causing them at to glance his way. "Maybe you two should change first?"

Aleena took a moment to look at her entire. Her night-dress covered her knees, and she was wearing underwear beneath anyway, she smiled at him, "No, I'm good."

"So am I." John shot him a stony look and he sighed, "Fine. I'll go change." Turning to go to his room Sherlock quickly looked over his shoulder caught Aleena gaze and winked cheekily. Grabbing a piece of the sheet and flicking his wrist, the cloth fell to the floor in a white puddle leaving him naked as the day he was born. Aleena let out a shocked gasp and covered her eyes, Classic snorted with a smile and John groaned in despair pinching the bridge of his nose. He strolled calmly down the hallway shutting the door behind him. When he returned ten minutes later, in his customary black suit and grey shirt, he found John seated by the windows and a chair placed opposite for him. Intrigued he sat down, crossing his arms and ankles and looked expectantly at the two hedgehogs.

Classic nodded at Aleena curling his hands into fists, "Are you ready? Remember the moves and you'll be fine."

"I'm ready. Let's do it do it!"

The smaller of the two unleashed ball after ball of light from his fists directly at her, aiming either up, down, left or right and each time Aleena blocked them. They started off slow and then got into their stride. Sherlock and John were astonished to find it was almost like a dance.

Sherlock was concentrating on their technique when he looked up and found John trying to copy. It was highly amusing, but imagine his horror when he found his own limbs following. It was like the dance was contagious or something. Classic didn't stop for breath and fired off another round of glowing orbs towards the Princess, going a little slower at the end trying to throw her off. Growing in confidence Aleena was more animated in the way she blocked this round, using her arms more and jumping around in front of the fire-place.

The two hedgehogs were looking slightly different now: Classic's fur was becoming more frazzled and standing on end, the white of his eyes were glowing with a pinkish hue. Aleena's fur was dotted with bubble-gum pink splotches and her hair was streaked with blonde high-lights. Having abandoned trying to follow John looked over at Sherlock with slight concern but the detective was watching the dance with keen eyes. As the pair of dancing hedgehogs sped up for a third time both Sherlock and John became aware that the air in the room was becoming more charged as the routine built up to its big finale.

The routine ended with Classic shooting a big energy ball at Aleena who blocked it with ease. Father and daughter took a moment to catch their breaths. As the statically charged air in the room died down, the two hedgehogs were looking normal again. John, still in his seat stared at them in awe but Sherlock was already up on his feet, hands behind his back, mind working over-time.

Once he had recovered enough Classic grinned at the young royal, "Good job, Na-Na. You didn't miss a single one."

"Thanks, daddy." She winked at John, "See, Dr Watson? The walls are safe once more."

"That was…unusual. Those little balls are really energy? How do you make them?" Sherlock had walked over to where Classic was still perched on his chair. He took one of the hedgehog's hands in his own and looked closely at his palm. "Can you show me again?" Classic nodded, reclaimed his hand and conjured a tiny pink ball. Sherlock was so entranced by the sight that he didn't hear John call out.

"Sherlock!" The doctor made a bee-line for the fire-place. Aleena crumpled to the floor; he just managed to save her from doing serious injury and gently lowered her to the carpet. Kneeling at her side, propping her up against his chest, he brushed some stray locks from her face, placed two fingers to her throat and felt for a pulse. "Pulse is weak. What the hell happened?"

Sherlock and Classic had now joined them; Classic placed a hand over Aleena's heart and closed his eyes. The other two shivered as the air around them shimmered and grew cold. After a second or two the tiny hedgehog sighed and with-drew his hand. "It's just exhaustion. She took a beating in France and is still recovering from it."

"Right. Well, as a doctor, I suggest rest, peace and quiet. Sherlock, take her to your room and-"

"What? Why my room?"

"It's closer."

"But…B-but I've got experiments in there, deadly experiments that cannot be disturbed. Take her up to your room if you're so worried about her well-being."

"Sherlock, there are no deadly things in your room other-wise you wouldn't have slept in there. Everything that's remotely dangerous is in the fridge, or waiting to be used to blow up the micro-wave. Do this one little thing for me. Please? It will only be for a few hours."

He sighed deeply, "You know I hate you, right?" John grinned in triumph. "Fine, she stays with me. But only for a few hours." With the most care, that John had ever seen him show anything, Sherlock shifted a little arranging her arms around his neck and stood carrying the princess. Aleena gave a soft whimper, loosely wrapped her legs around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. Sherlock made his way to his room carefully lowering her onto the bed, drawing the sheet up to her shoulders. After making sure she was sleeping he nodded and headed back out to the living room. He found the room had been returned to its former state and both Classic and John were no-where in sight. Hearing footfalls coming up the steps he took to his chair, steepled his fingers together and stared straight ahead. John came in and headed for the back of the flat. "She's sleeping, doctor. Where's Sonic?"

John started clearing away the breakfast things as quietly as he could. "He had to leave but said if anything happens we can contact him on Aleena's phone. Um… here." Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a black mobile and tossed it in Sherlock's direction. The detective caught it easily and started going through its contents. "Sherlock! What are you doing? You can't just-"

"I can and I will. It's part of my job to know as much about my clients as possible and this," He held the phone up with a smirk, "is the best way. Now let's see…" All of Johns' protests fell on deaf ears as he typed away on the little keys. Eventually John gave up trying to reason with him, shook his head and went to check on Aleena before turning the kettle on and making make some tea.

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><p><strong>Well, that chapter sucked. Not my best I have to say.<strong>

**I don't know about the next one, I'm itching to do the infamous fireplace scene in ASiB with a slight Sonic twist, but I think it's too soon. Might do one with Eggman and Moriarty, those boys have been too quiet for my liking. **


	7. Chapter 7

**OK, this chapter has been re-done, like, FOUR times! It is the infamous fire-place scene from ASiB with my own twist, there's some of the proper episode dialogue and I have included some of the text from the teaser I posted earlier**

**But first, an extra scene to start. I wondered what our two evil geniuses have been up to. (I'm not happy with this start, but meh…)**

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><p><span>Chapter 7.<span>

Eggman stopped his typing to look over the many screens dotted around him at the sound of some-one hitting metal on metal. With a heavy sigh he sat back, laced his fingers together and rested them on his vast tummy. "Can I help you, Mr Moriarty?"

Jim Moriarty, wrench in hand, looking a little sheepish at being caught, stepped back from the large table where a section of the Terrorizer suit was awaiting repairs and shook his head. "Nope, just looking, Professor." He dropped the wrench with a loud clatter; Eggman gritted his teeth and got back to work though keeping an eye on Moriarty as he got closer. "Sooo… How's coming? Is our little Master-Code ready yet?"

"_**MY**_ code is almost ready. _**MY**_ battle suit is nearly ready, with so many green gems in this world re- charging is almost complete. _**MY**_ plan for destroying the Royal line is fool-proof. What is it _**you've**_ done to help, Moriarty?"

Moriarty frowned and suddenly smacked his palm on the table-top making Eggman flinch, "Least I remind _**you**_, Professor, _**I**_ was the one who found you. _**I**_ was the one who let you stay here, _**undetected**_. With-out me you'd be out on your fat arse, beaten by those speedy rodents and out-smarted by…" he shivered "...Holmes…" he sniffed, straightened up and adjusted his tie, "Now, Professor," he cooed sweetly, "how's _**our**_ little Master-Code coming along?"

Eggman gulped, "Every-thing's going according to plan, Moriarty."

Moriarty smiled.

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><p>The sun had set and it was evening. The flat was dark, the only light coming from a single table-lamp and the fire. Sherlock sat in his chair, sitting low in the cushions, his steel-grey eyes narrowed; brows drawn close and deep in thought. Suddenly he blinked as something popped into his head, something he didn't quite understand and needed answers to.<p>

"Emeralds!"

"I'm sorry?"

Sherlock blinked in the dim light. Expecting to see John sitting in the battered chair he was a little surprised to find the hedgehog Royal curled up like a cat, clutching the Union Jack pillow to her chest and watching him with amused eyes. She wasn't there a second ago. Quickly taking in her tousled hair (towel dried-just had a shower.) clean clothes (- a pair of fresh socks and a cream coloured shirt with a small stain on the cuff…_**wait, is that mine?**_) He deduced that she'd woken up a while ago. He cleared his throat. "Where's John?"

"He went out. Said he had to meet someone called Martha…or was it Mary? Michael? Well, something beginning with M."

"But…I was just talking to him."

Aleena smiled, "He said you would zone out." Sherlock frowned for a second and then shrugged. Holding the pillow tighter she tilted her head. "You said something about emeralds. Maybe I can help."

He sighed and steepled his fingers, "I was trying to work out why only emeralds were stolen."

"Power."

"What?"

"You see, where I come from there were seven emeralds. Each one contained a power source that could be used for good or evil, unfortunately six were lost to Eggman, and his evil schemes, during the war, so with the last one—the grey one—I confronted him. I tried to stop him but something went wrong and both my-self and Eggman ended up here."

"I see. Is there anything we can do?"

The Princess shook her head, "I don't know. Once the power of the emerald has been unleashed it needs long time to re-charge. Eggman, being the genius that he is, has made a code that allows him to harness the raw power from any emeralds he steals. With the code in his grasp, and his growing collection of plain green emeralds, he's trying to speed up the process of re-charging his Terrorizer suit. The only thing powerful enough to stop a fully-charged Eggman is the Grey Emerald but it needs to feed on a certain emotion and, I fear in this world, it's in short supply."

"What is this rare emotion?" He asked calmly.

Aleena gave a lop-sided smile, "I don't think it's in your area of expertise, Mr Holmes."

Sherlock leaned forward on his elbows, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on top. "Try me."

She blushed slightly, "Love."

He huffed, "Love's over-rated. It's a beast that demands more than the subject is capable of giving and in the end it destroys them."

"Wow." She breathed, "I never thought of it like that. Some-one must have hurt you real bad." Sherlock looked away and chose not to answer. "So who was she?"

"She?"

Aleena sat forward a little, "The one who hurt you? Adder? No, that wasn't it. Oh, I got it! Adler. Ms Irene Adler, professionally known as _**The Woman**_. Did she break wittle Sherlock's heart?"

The look she got in reply was stony. "How did you-?"

"You're not the only one who's done their home-work. I'll be taking that back now." She nodded at him and out-stretched a hand. He raised a single brow in question before smirking and taking her phone from his inside pocket, tossing it between pale hands. "Give it to me."

A light entered the detective's eyes, his mind flashed back and he grinned, "I've played this game before, and lost, I won't lose this time." He played with the keys. "Interesting texts. For my own amusement, how were you going to seduce me?"

Never had she been in such an embarrassing situation. Damn her dad and damn his stupid idea to play Sherlock emotionally to boost the Emeralds charging. Now that Sherlock had found the texts there was no-way he was going to open up to her. Admitting defeat she sighed running a hand through her hair. "Can I ask you something personal? Have you _**ever**_ been in love?" She nibbled her lower lip as Sherlock shook his head _**no**_, "Then how do you know?" Again she got no verbal reply just a shrug. "If I were to kiss you, right now, how would you react?"

Sherlock shot her a startled look, "Don't change the subject." He shifted in his seat. The silence in the flat grew to awkward levels, after a while he cleared his throat. "Well, we have things to do. You need to rest and I have to check on my experiments."

Aleena _**knew**_ that there were no experiments, and since experimentation _**was**_ Sherlock's expertise, maybe it was time to change that. _**Here goes nothing.**_ She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "For the sake of experimenting, then, how would you react?"

Sherlock shrugged again, "I don't know. But I guess it would feel the same as if I were going kiss a human. Bestiality is not one of my kinks."

Aleena smiled sweetly, "That's one thing we have in common."

He looked back confused, "You think I'm a beast?"

A playful smirk, "I don't know. You tell me." Slowly she got up, pushing the cushion to one side and started walking towards him. "Are you a beast, Mr Holmes?"

Pocketing the phone he looked up and she gulped. The smirk she got in reply could only be described as predatory. "You have no idea." He growled deeply. Perching on the very edge of the chair he laced his fingers together, rested them on his knees and titled his head slightly. "How far are you willing to go to find out?"

Suddenly Aleena wished she could murder her father for his crack-pot ideas.

Aleena stopped dead in front of him, her knees just shy of brushing his, he sat back his lips twitched upwards a little. Aleena blinked a couple of times, her cheeks flushing slightly before kneeling between his legs. Once she comfortable she folded her arms on his knees and resting her chin upon them.

"I was thinking some light teasing, playful banter, and flirty comments. The normal stuff. Maybe dinner-"

"I'm not hungry."

Her smirk grew into one of playfulness. "How about we skip to dessert?"

Confusion flickered over his face, "I don't understand."

"I'll be delicate then." Raising her-self just a tiny bit at a time, her bare hands slowly journeyed up his legs towards his lap. Her short nails slightly catching the expensive material, "Mr Holmes—_**Sherlock**_—would you like to have dessert?"

"Why would I…want dessert…with-out having dinner…"Sherlock quickly halted her movements circling her wrists. His cool fingers slid over tanned skin that rose in small Goosebumps. Finding her quickened pulse point he looked up, not realising how close she had gotten, and jerk back suddenly. Aleena stumbled forward with a gasp and ended up sprawled across his middle.

Aleena pushed her-self up-right and, blushing furiously, face to face with steel-grey eyes that widened as she wiggled about getting into a more comfortable position. A low sound, something like a growl, rumbled out of the detective and he grabbed her around the waist to halt her movements.

"Sherlock?"

The detective studied her for a second or two. Noticing the way her cheeks were flushed and now darker. Her pupils dilated until there was only the thinnest ring of green framing them and her quickened breathing, a sly smirk crossed his lips, "Ask me again and I _**might **_reconsider."

Aleena frowned for a fraction of a second, _**What? **_ Shifting about a bit more, Sherlock breathed out of his nose sharply nostrils flaring. _**Oh…**_ A blush crept up his cheeks. _**OH!**_ "Mister Holmes, would you like to have dessert?" She purred, smiling softly and inching closer…

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><p><strong>I completely fudged that up! Geez that was bad! :(<strong>

**I do love a cliff-hanger! I know I'm mean but you love me really. **

**C U 8ter! **


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8.

The atmosphere was so tense in 221B that you could cut it with a knife. Sherlock sat still with steel hue eyes tracking something as it moved about the flat. His mouth was turned down in a frown and it was getting deeper as the seconds rolled on.

John, from his place in Sherlock's arm-chair, alternated his gaze between his flat-mate and the other seated beside him on the sofa. (John had been living with Sherlock long enough to know the signs: if their guest didn't shut up soon, Sherlock was either going to strangle them or insult them.) While Sherlock's death-glare was getting deadlier, fingers twitching on his knees, eyes narrowed a little at something their guest said, John mentally nodded to him-self (cue insult any-time soon.) The detective's eyes quickly flicked down to his right. John had to smile a little behind his hand, and Sherlock said he never noticed anything…

Sherlock was in his own little world drowning out the drone that rang through-out the flat. The only thing keeping him from not leaping up and doing something he'd regret (that was a slight possibility.) was the constant presence of Aleena at his side. It was only when he heard the words, _**'Government Facility.'**_ did he re-surface, eyes up and boring into his un-invited guest. "No."

Sherlock's brother Mycroft, John's mysterious appointment, turned and looked down his nose at the younger Holmes, "I think, after John and myself found you two in such a compromising position, you have no say, little brother." Leaning against Sherlock's desk Mycroft pointed at the young hedgehog with the tip of his, ever present, umbrella. "Even as we speak some of my men are transferring the Princess's belongings. She will be taken to a safe place until we figure out what to do with her."

"No." Sherlock said again. "She stays with me… us." John's brows raised spotting Sherlock's blunder. Unfortunately so did Mycroft. The elder Holmes smirked and Sherlock looked away.

Mycroft pushed away from the desk and extended his arm, "This way, my dear." Aleena shook her head, edging closer to Sherlock. This time Sherlock smirked.

"See? Aleena wants to stay with us. She came to us for help. Not you." He stood, making sure to be between his brother and the Princess, "I'd like you to leave."

While the Holmes brothers bickered John noticed movement in the kitchen. Something, clearly small enough that the table blocked it, was opening/closing the fridge-freezer after taking something out of it. "Sherlock…" he started but stopped himself just in time as a small blue spiked head poked round a table leg and shushed him. With a wink, Classic Sonic disappeared behind the table and John watched as Sherlock's bed-room door softly closed. When he turned back both Sherlock and Mycroft were staring at him, feeling a blush quickly working up his cheeks, he shrugged, "Never mind."

Mycroft huffed and pulled out his pocket-watch, "We really must be going…"

"I said no."

Mycroft banged the tip of the umbrella forcefully against the wooden floor; "Enough!" Sherlock slammed his mouth shut, nostril flaring. Aleena jumped on the couch and John nearly fell out of his chair. "This is not about your childish obsession, dear brother. This is about national security. If what you say is true, that Moriarty is working with another more powerful than he, it will take more than you and your clever tricks to stop him." Again he checked his watch, "Time is against us. Please follow me, your Highness." He looked over at the door, all three followed and Sherlock's shoulders slumped in defeat spying the two black-suited bodyguards. Aleena's eyes widened in alarm, she quickly turned to Mycroft.

"No! Sir, please! Don't do this; you'll be making a big mistake. Sherlock, tell him!" The guards walked forward, grabbing Aleena forcefully by the arms and dragging her boldly towards the door, away from Sherlock and John. "Sherlock!" Aleena looked imploringly at the detective who dipped his head averting his eyes. "No! Don't!" She struggled hopelessly against the iron-grip on her arms, legs flaying wildly as they pulled her away.

Suddenly Sherlock had a change of heart and moved to help but this time Mycroft stood in his way: the roles reversed. The elder Holmes shook his head. "I am sorry, Sherlock."

His brother sneered at him, "I highly doubt that, _**Mycroft**_."

During this second bickering round, John could feel the Captain in him rise to the surface. Watching Aleena being dragged away, hearing her cries as she was led down the steps made him get to his feet. He was about to demand that Mycroft stop this nonsense and let the Princess go when a bright flash of red light lit up the stair-well followed by two heavy thuds.

To everyone's surprise Aleena rushed back up the steps and flung herself at Sherlock. Mycroft's eyes widened when Sherlock wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, turning slightly to shield her from Mycroft and his goons. But the reunion was short lived as two more black-suits turned up, hands slowly drifting into inside jacket pockets. Sherlock turned some more as they advanced but Aleena pushed away a little and looked up at him, green eyes glittering with tears. Slowly she stepped back, reaching up to take hold of the golden choker around her neck. The goons pulled out their guns ready (in-case she tried anything again this time.) Sherlock raised a brow in question and she just smirked in return.

It happened like it was in slow motion when it was, in fact, in a blink of an eye: the black-suits moved towards the Princess, who closed her eyes and muttered two little words. A micro-second later the whole room was aglow with dazzling green light, and when it had died down…Aleena was gone!

The two suits stood in the middle of 221B with their guns trained on an empty space and looking pretty dumb. Mycroft glowered at Sherlock who simply shrugged. With a quick nod from Mycroft the guards made their way downstairs, hiding their weapons as they went. Once it was just the three of them Mycroft stepped up to his younger sibling, up close and invading his personal space. John stood to the side and waited for the slanging match to begin.

"Did you know she could that?"

"No."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Would I tell you if I was?"

Mycroft shifted his gaze to John who, like Sherlock, just shrugged. "_**Touché**_, little brother."

Sherlock huffed in annoyance. "Are you done? I have work to do."

Knowing he would get nothing more out of his brother Mycroft sniffed and straightened out his suit, "Yes. Well thanks to you so do I." He turned to John, "Would you be so kind as to walk me to my car, John? I think Sherlock could use some _**alone time**_." John nodded dumbly, getting to his feet and following the elder brother out. Sherlock snarled listening to their retreating steps, kicked over a nearby chair and wished that John hadn't hidden his gun.

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><p>When John climbed the seventeen steps, a little apprehensively, he found Sherlock standing by the windows, violin in hand playing a piece that he had never heard before. The only other time he'd heard Sherlock play a new piece was during the incident with The Woman. He took his place in his own chair and flicked through the paper. After a while Sherlock stopped playing and sighed, "I wish you would stop thinking that, John."<p>

John looked up, "Pardon?"

"I'm not angry with you. I knew Mycroft would poke his nose in sooner or later." The detective placed his beloved instrument back in its case, "I had hoped for later, but beggars can't be choosers."

"Where do you think Aleena went?" He asked quietly, folding the paper and sitting back against the cushions.

"Some-where safe, I hope. Don't worry, John. Aleena is a fighter, just like you, she'll come back when she's ready." Sherlock was looking out the window now, hands behind his back. "You must be tired. Go get some sleep; I suspect we'll be quite busy tomorrow. Or should I say…" He caught John's gaze via the window and smirked, "…today."

"Wha..?" A quick glance at the clock showed it was later then he thought. "Oh, bloody hell." He groaned, getting to his feet, his poor joints cracking. "I've got a double shift at the surgery." Sherlock didn't move from his spot by the window. "Are you going to bed?" John asked, (silently hoping for a yes but not holding his breath for one.) he was surprised when Sherlock turned slightly and nodded.

"Yes. Dealing with my brother has left me quite exhausted. Good–night, John." With a mumbled reply of his own, John stumbled up the stairs to his room, where he quickly changed and fell face-first unto the covers. Sherlock tracked the doctor's movements via the creaks of the floor-boards above, a soft smirk gracing his lips when John finally collapsed in his room. Sherlock finally turned around placing his hands on the back of his chair, the soft leather crinkling under his fingers, his head bowed.

"Why the sad face?"

"Huh?" His head snapped up so quickly you could hear it. Silver eyes widened spying the small blue hedgehog standing in front of the fire-place. Classic smirked at him with arms folded across his tanned chest. "Where's Aleena?

Classic eyes twinkled in the dim light, "Safe. Why did she leave?"

Sherlock growled, "Mycroft."

"Ah…the busy-body big brother. Good thing I took this then, wasn't it?" Reaching into his back quills, the blue hedgehog produced the Grey Emerald and tossed it over. Sherlock twirled it in his hand and, to his amazement; the gem glowed at his touch. Classic grinned, "Don't worry, Mr Detective, I've decided to retract my plan. Just be Aleena's friend, that should be enough to charge the Emerald." Sherlock expression changed slightly, his eyes narrowed, "Unless…_**is**_ the feeling mutual, Mr Holmes?"

"I…I don't know. Seeing her in the pages of an old book and in flesh and blood are two different things. But what I _**do**_ know is…" Sherlock raised his eyes, locking gazes with Classic a soft look came over him, "I don't want to lose her."

Classic nodded, "I will send her to you when the heat has died down. I suggest rest, Mr Holmes. There's a lot to be done and not a lot of time to do it in." With a final nod Classic vanished in a flash of green light.

Sherlock stood alone in the sitting room, the stone in his hand still shimmering in the dying fire-light. So entranced by the beauty of it he jumped when his pocket vibrated. Extracting his phone, Sherlock opened his messages on the way to his room, briefly stopping in the kitchen to replace the jewel Classic took earlier. Behind the safety of closed doors he read the text a couple of times while getting changed, and then again before going to sleep. A soft smile flickered across his mouth taking in the single line before turning off the lights:

_**Sweet dreams, Sherlock. Aleena. Xx**_

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><p><strong>Um…yeah. Don't know what happen there. <strong>

**Nope, not happy with it but too tired to care.**


	9. teaser time!

_**I need time to re-discover my inner BBC Sherlock, so here's a little teaser of things to come..**_

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><p>The light breeze ruffled Sherlock's curls from his forehead. His eyes were clear and grey in the dim light, his posture composed and not giving anything away. Calmly the detective folded his hands behind his back, cocking his head slightly. "Nice to finally chat. Face to…" he pursed his lips and then smirked, "…visor. Good evening, Professor."<p>

Eggman unveiled himself, lifting the safety lid to his Suits' visor. The mad Professor glared down at the black cladded human before nodding stiffly. "Mr Holmes. Not a pleasure."

"Clearly. This is not my idea of a _**night out**_. I'm a busy person…"

"Busy poking your hawked nose into other people's affairs." The head of the battle armour leaned closer, a hand reached out (palm exposed) and quickly journeyed the length of Sherlock's body. Sherlock didn't even blink, just stood completely still. When the scan was done Eggman hummed in approval. "He said you would true to your word. Hand the Emerald over, Mr Holmes and nobody will get hurt."

"Apart from Aleena and the other four billion Mobians."

"Meh. Not all…just half."

"I see."

Eggman chuckled, "No, I don't think you do."

Sherlock's eyes darkened, "Then, maybe, you could enlighten me?"

The Professor folded his arms, the joints of the metal suit creaking, "Why all the concern? Why do you care? You're Sherlock Holmes. You. Have. No. Feelings." The inside of the visor flashed with a minor red light. "In-coming call. Do you mind?" Sherlock shook his head with a casual wave of his hand. "Yes? Oh… I see. Yes, I understand. Thank-you."

"Your benefactor?"

"Yes…" He said slowly before straightening up. "Mr Holmes I propose a different deal: give me the Emerald and I will spare the Princess's life and leave this planet with-out a second thought. Aleena can stay here with you, safe and away from me and my wonderful robotics."

"Why would she want to stay with me?"

Eggman smirked, "Because you care for her."

"I do not."

"Really? The Emerald responded to you, did it not?" Sherlock stayed silent, schooling his face to show no emotion, but the silence spoke volumes to Eggman. "The Grey Emerald is the last and the most powerful of the magic stones. When there were seven it binded the other six and amplified their powers. Now only the deepest emotions can revive the Grey Emerald once it's been drained, the most common is…" the Professor stopped suddenly, his eyes alight behind his dark glasses. During this short rant Sherlock had reached into a small bag and pulled out said gem. It was pulsing dimly in his hand. "Amazing!" He breathed, and then the smirk returned. "Now tell me the truth, _**Sherlock**_. Do you care for the Princess?"

Curling his fingers around the Emerald, Sherlock lifted his eyes to the Professor. A ghost of a smirk on his lips as he replied in one, short word: "Yes."

)()()()()()()(

Deep in the vast whiteness of the Void a shimmering marble of gold and silver floated on a lone pedestal. Classic Sonic strolled calmly up to it and gently placed his hands to its surface. The orb glinted at his touch. He leaned close and whispered softly, "It's time."

The globe hummed with old power and turned pure gold. Classic stepped back and crossed his fingers behind his quills. The power of the Chaos Emeralds thrummed around them, the orb grew bigger and bigger until it exploded outwards and then sucked into itself like a mini black-hole with a pop!

Journeying through the Void inside the orb, (where she had been hidden over the last few months) safe and well-rested, Aleena opened her eyes to reveal forest green pupils that quickly flashed to ruby red. Smiling, showing her newly acquired fangs, she gathered up all her Chaos energy and focused on her destination.

London.

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><p><em><strong>Well... hopefully more soon! M.x<strong>_


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